Chuck Versus the Teacher
by Ethan Michaels
Summary: Chuck begins basic training under the tutelage of Agent Sarah Walker.
1. Prologue

"_There's nothing left," the man said, staring frustrated at the remnants of the Intersect computer. Chuck felt his mind swirling and spiraling. The air seemed thin to his heaving lungs and the floor unstable to his legs. He struggled to remain focused._

"_So you lose," he heard Casey retort. He watched as the man circled back to his captives, Sarah and Casey. It all seemed fake to Chuck. Like it was a dream or some obscure glass window barring him from reality. Sarah looked at Chuck on the other side of that glass, her face a mask of shock and concern._

_The man glared at Casey, "You should know this…no one stops us. No one ever has."_

"_Who are you?" Sarah demanded._

_He smiled smugly as he lifted his gun toward her, "Spies, Agent Walker. The best."_

_Chuck's mind erupted with color-dissipating the haze and shattering the incorporeal glass into oblivion. Reality rushed in all around him, drowning him with a wave of panic. His body tensed as adrenaline pulsed through his veins and something greater than instinct commanded his mind. He blinked._

_The thugs surrounding him shifted uncomfortably at the sight. "Sir," a thug called, "you should look at this."_

"_Chuck," Sarah called out, "did you just flash?" _

_The man turned toward Chuck, analyzing him. "He uploaded it," he said, his mouth agape. _

"_Oh, Chuck me," Casey groaned from across the room._

"_Kill him," the man ordered in a voice rich with unease._

_Chuck exploded into action. His arms shot out, sending pistols flying around him._

_Thousands of images pounded through Chuck's mind, instructing every fiber of his body. His feet danced across the floor and his fists greeted multiple faces as he mentally watched himself pummeling the thugs around him. The world around him was black and white, friend or foe…except for Sarah. In the midst of the unnatural visions, Sarah glowed like a beacon._

_Chuck's arms weaved in and out, fending off his attackers' feeble blows. An image instructed him to strike. His arm raced forward, sending a powerful punch into the assailant's chest. He stumbled backward as Chuck's foot crashed into his ribs. The man slammed into the wall and fell, defeated._

_The images stopped and relaxed, then disappeared._

_His muscles unclenched as life seemed to leap back at him, splashing him like icy water. His lungs breathed deeply of the stale air within the Intersect room. He looked hesitantly at his hands, as if they were foreign, then the fallen bodies around him._

"_Chuck?" Sarah questioned hesitantly. Worry was evident on her face. _

_Chuck turned to meet Sarah and Casey's faces. "Guys," he said, pausing briefly, "I know kung fu."_


	2. Chapter 1

"Chuck!" Sarah screamed as he simply collapsed to the floor, unconscious. She raced to his side, briefly touching his forehead, then feeling his neck. "He's alive," she stated.

Casey walked around the room, looking dumbfounded. "The geek's been holding out on us," he smiled, "Agent Imbecile he may be, but half these guys will be lucky to wake up before Christmas. The other half will be lucky to wake up at all."

"Casey, we need to get him to Castle," Sarah said emphatically, "Now."

Casey loosed a low grunt, and lifted Chuck's limp body up over his shoulder. "I thought this nightmare was over," he growled.

Sarah looked helplessly at Casey, then at Chuck's blank expression. "So did he," she muttered.

_Five hours later…_

Sarah held Chuck's hand and gently squeezed it, hoping he'd respond.

Nothing.

She blinked away a tear as she looked down at him. Casey had laid him down on one of Castle's beds nearly five hours ago. He hadn't stirred in the slightest. There wasn't anything physically wrong with him; she had made sure of that. He was just…out.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. It was going to be a long night. She squeezed his hand again.

His phone rang.

Startled, Sarah reached into his pocket. A picture of Ellie lit up the room as she removed the phone. She had completely forgotten about Ellie. A small smile creased her lips as she realized her mistake. Ellie was always worried about Chuck- even on her wedding day.

Sarah answered it, "Hello?"

"Sarah!" Ellie chirped with surprise. "Did I call the wrong number?"

"Nope, you called the right one," Sarah replied, managing a giggle. "We're um…a little busy at the moment…"

"Oh. I was just worried…Chuck hadn't come home…and…" Ellie rambled. Then it hit. "Oh! Oh my god, I'm so sorry…I mean…um…continue," Ellie stuttered. The phone clicked.

Sarah's face flushed a little as she imagined Ellie's embarrassment. She dearly wished she could have told Ellie the truth. She was so tired and frustrated with lying and covers. She had lied to everybody that had come to genuinely care for her- especially Chuck. She looked at his unmoving face and frowned. Five hours ago a gun was moments from ending her life. Of all the regrets that flooded her conscience in those moments, one was clearly greater than all the others. Chuck.


	3. Chapter 2

Casey marched into Castle like he did every other morning. He carried a newspaper in one hand and his favorite mug, emblazoned with Reagan's face, brimming with steaming black coffee in the other. But, unlike other days, instead of going straight to his guns, he decided to see if Chuck had awoken from his snooze.

What he saw almost made him spill his coffee.

Agent Sarah Walker sat asleep in a chair at Chuck's bedside, her head resting comfortably on his chest. He smirked as his suspicions were confirmed.

"An eye for an eye, Walker," he mumbled as he snapped a shot with his phone.

"Very sly Casey," a familiar voice whispered. Chuck opened his eyes and shot Casey a wink.

Casey issued a low, irritated growl.

Sarah shot up blazingly quickly, her hands instinctively going to her pistol. She turned around to see a growling Casey with his phone held high.

"Casey!" she exclaimed. Casey shrugged and smiled, tucking his phone into his pocket. Sarah eyed him suspiciously.

"Well," Casey started, "now that your boy toy is done counting sheep, we can get back to business."

Sarah spun back around as Chuck began sitting up. She wrapped him in a hug.

"Good morning to you too," Chuck said, smiling sheepishly. Casey grunted and left the room, sipping his coffee.

"Is everything alright Chuck?" Sarah asked a couple moments later.

"Aside from the giant, throbbing Intersect headache…yeah, I'm pretty good," Chuck concluded. Sarah smiled.

"Come on," she said, getting up. "We have to let Beckman know what happened."

______________________________________________________________________________

The room was black- only the dark forms of four people were visible. They sat high above the floor like kings, waiting to judge whoever entered the chamber in which they resided. One chair remained empty.

"Has the Intersect been retrieved?" a male voice asked monotonously.

"No," the agent replied cautiously. He continued, picking his words carefully, "We were ambushed. We had subdued Bryce Larkin and infiltrated the Intersect location successfully, but were consequently attacked by three enemy operatives. Our intel names one as CIA Agent Sarah Walker and the other as NSA Colonel John Casey. The third…"

"The third," a female voice began, "is Charles Carmichael, though we suspect that his true name is Charles Bartowski- the son of Orion. Continue."

He hesitated a second, and continued. "We soon captured Agent Walker and Colonel Casey and breached the door of the Intersect Room. Carmichael had found an alternate access point. I assisted in removing the body of Bryce Larkin and returned."

"And?" the male voice urged.

"Two of our agents were dead. Three were badly wounded. The Intersect was destroyed."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. The figures did not move or speak. They sat quietly, as if in deep thought or meditation. The agent imagined the four sets of eyes glaring at him, damning him to certain death.

Finally, the female voice spoke. "Bring us Stephen Bartowski."

______________________________________________________________________________

"Chuck!" General Beckman said in a scolding, serious voice. "Did you even have the slightest idea what you'd done when you chose to activate the Intersect?"

Behind him, Sarah's head dropped. Her heart dropped lower.

"With all due respect General, I'm missing your point. None of us would be here today if I hadn't. Not to mention…"

"Chuck," Beckman interrupted. "The new Intersect was not a replica of the one Bryce sent you two years ago. The Intersect cube was altered to become a weapon. It is not simply a military database. It's actually dangerous."

"That's just great," Casey said sarcastically. "You should see the guy with a gun."

Beckman ignored him. "You've forced my hand on this, Chuck," she said as horror built on Chuck's face. "I assigned Agent Walker to be the head of the new Intersect Project," she explained. "And she shall. You and Agent Walker will be relocated to a location forty miles west of Los Angeles."

Chuck turned to Sarah. She swallowed, and said nothing.

"Your training begins tomorrow," she finished.

______________________________________________________________________________

"I am so proud of you," Ellie beamed as Chuck zipped up his duffle bag. "First, you quit the Buy More, and then you finally move in with Sarah." Ellie was shivering with excitement.

"Don't get too excited sis," he said. "Remember when we house-sat about six months ago? It didn't go so great. We're trying again, for real this time, but without any contracts or promises. You may find me back sooner than you think."

Chuck pondered his word choice. For real this time. Was there actually some truth there?

"Well, I may be wrong, but from what I heard last night," Ellie reasoned, wincing slightly at the memory, "it sounds like you two are getting along just fine."

Chuck looked puzzled. "Last night?" he asked.

"Chuck, I'd really prefer not to spell it out. I talked to Sarah, remember?"

"Oh," he said, realizing the scenario. "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call…I just got caught up…"

"No!" Ellie interjected. "No, Chuck, I don't want the details. Those are better left unsaid."

"Right," Chuck said, his voice trailing off. "Of course."

Curiosity bubbled in Chuck's mind. What exactly did Sarah tell Ellie?

"I'd better get going," Chuck stated as he slung his duffle over his shoulder and started for the door. "Casey agreed to drop me off at Sarah's."

"That man never ceases to surprise me," Devon added, as he emerged shirtless from the fridge. "I'm glad he's got your back bro." He winked at Chuck.

"We're here for you too," Ellie added. "Whatever you need, we're just a phone call away."

"I appreciate the concern guys, but I think I'll be fine," Chuck assured them. "I packed some wooden stakes and some holy water just in case things get out of hand."

Ellie and Devon shared a laugh. "Go," Ellie insisted, "Sarah will be waiting for ya."

Chuck saluted, and left.

"Ready to go son?" Chuck yelped as his father emerged from the corner.

"What is it with everybody and popping out like that?" Chuck breathed.

"I'm sorry if I startled you Charles," his father mumbled, "I just didn't want Ellie and Devon to know I was joining you for the ride."

"What?" Chuck asked incredulously.

"I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to say," he began, "but given my choice to remain here in Burbank, the NSA assigned me a handler until things settle down."

Chuck's eyes widened. Stephen Bartowski laughed nervously. "Yeah, I feel the same way. To be honest, I'm surprised they care about me at all. Seeing as how they have their new Intersect and Fulcrum is done."

Chuck cleared his throat. "Well, I'm guessing you want this back," Chuck said, removing his father's wrist computer from his jacket.

"No, you keep that," he said as they began walking towards the Crown Vic parked ahead. "From what I hear, they're training you to become a real spy. You may need it."

_A real spy_, Chuck thought. He remembered the countless times he refused to play that role. He felt his insides turn. It wasn't the super dangerous computer locked in his brain that changed his mind. It wasn't even the General's commands. He tucked the computer away.

"Come on, Chuck," Stephen beckoned as he noticed his son lingering behind.

"Front seat's yours," Casey called to Chuck through the windows.

"Why thank you Casey," Chuck replied with a geeky smile. "I figured you would have reserved the trunk for me."

"That's where my guns are," Casey retorted, "and it's easier to talk to you up here."

As Chuck and his father climbed in, Casey pressed a button on the dash. A screen dropped, halving the Vic and cutting off Stephen.

"Sound proof," Casey explained. "Your father can't hear us. It's important that I talk to you privately, and this is the only chance I have before you leave."

Casey turned the key, bringing the Vic to life. A faint smile appeared on his face as the engine hummed smoothly.

"I'm glad there are some things in the world that make you happy," Chuck commented, eliciting a grunt from his companion.

"First off," Casey began, "I was reassigned to stay here in Burbank to ensure the safety of the Intersect."

"I'll be in a safe house with Sarah, Casey," Chuck stated. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Oh, don't even get me started," Casey replied. "But it's not you, moron. It's your father."

"How'd you…"

"…find out?" Casey finished for him. "Just because you were Intersect-free at the wedding reception doesn't mean we'd remove the bugs and surveillance in the courtyard."

"Of course not," Chuck sighed.

"Also," he continued, his face growing serious. "Beckman is rattled. In twenty years of working with this woman, I've never seen her so unnerved."

"What's bothering her?"

Casey shrugged as he accelerated through a yellow light. "She wouldn't say. To be honest, I'm not sure she knows herself."

Chuck eyed him suspiciously. What wasn't he saying?

"We're keeping your father at Castle, at least for a week," Casey informed Chuck. "If everything seems clear, we'll let him establish himself nearby with surveillance. We're not taking any chances though."

"He's always going to be watched, isn't he?" Chuck stated more than asked.

Casey paused a moment before answering. "He's the designer of the Intersect, Chuck," he answered. "He'll always be in danger."

The Vic rolled to a stop. "Good luck, Chuck," he said. "And be sure you don't kill your girlfriend."

______________________________________________________________________________

Sarah was terrified. For the first time in her life, her assignment actually made her feel nauseous. Not only would she be forced to face her regrets with Chuck, she would be forced to harden him into an agent. Into the very thing that she aspired to escape from.

She sighed, frustrated. She didn't even know if it was possible. She hoped it wasn't.

Would Chuck kill because he was told to, even if his conscience demanded mercy? Would Chuck be able to throw up the very same emotional barriers that plagued her, in order to protect himself? Two days ago, she would have said no. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Beckman labeled the new Intersect as a weapon. Sarah was uncertain of what exactly happened in the Intersect room. Was the Intersect a weapon? Or was it the wielder and Chuck its weapon?

The thought was too much. Sarah closed her eyes. "One mission at a time," she reminded herself.

Somebody knocked on her door.

She wandered over and peeked through. Chuck's smiling face was on the other side. He waved a small bouquet of gardenias as he became aware that she was looking at him.

She opened the door and smiled.

"Done packing already?" she asked. Chuck handed her the flowers. She smelled them briefly and set them aside.

"Yeah, I think so," Chuck answered. "Beckman failed to specify how long we'd be there or whether there'd be a washer or dryer. But yeah, I planned on a few weeks."

She couldn't prevent her smile. "Well, as you can see," Sarah said, motioning to the assortment of clothes, knives, guns, bulletproof vests, and various other instruments of death, "I still have some work to do."

"Anything I can help with?" he asked, as he began playing with a retractable blade hidden in a lipstick dispenser.

"No," she asserted, as she grabbed the lipstick from him. "Some things _are_ confidential. Even to you."

Chuck shot Sarah a playful pout. She smirked.

"So has Beckman given you list of things to teach me, Ms. Walker?"

Sarah stuffed a pile of clothes into her luggage. "Not yet," she answered. "I suspect she just wants basic training covered. And really, Sarah's just fine."

"Does that include seduction of enemy personnel?"

She looked up and shot him a look that would've made ice melt. "Well…" she began coyly, "Montgomery already gave you advice there, but, as I recall, you never listened to mine."

"What was it again?" Chuck questioned innocently.

"Be yourself." Sarah leaned into him and kissed him.


	4. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: This chapter was a very difficult one to write. I spent a long time staring at various scenes, trying to decide how I could best capture and maintain interest. So I apologize for the delayed update. For my "Charah" enthusiasts…I hope you like what you see in this chapter. For those awaiting the action, the force that pushes the story along...it's coming. _

_And as always, I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers. Your thoughts and comments mean a lot to me._

______________________________________________________________________________

The door opened without a sound. The man behind it crept into the awaiting room with eerie silence.

Noise would not reveal this man. He was among the greatest in his profession, whichever one he was for the day. Sometimes, he was a soldier. Other times, a police officer. But he was always an agent for The Ring.

His intense green eyes scoured the room in a quick sweep. His jaw was locked into an expression of disinterest. There was neither hair on his head nor stubble on his face. His lips were tightly shut.

His huge body drifted through the room like a shadow. Another door.

He brought a huge, muscled arm to the knob as he readied his pistol. He gently coaxed the door open without a whisper.

His eyes locked onto his target, searching for any sign of movement. The sheets covering his prey moved rhythmically as he breathed deeply.

The agent slid across the room to the bedside. He raised his gun and placed it carefully upon the man's forehead.

His eyes snapped open and met the green eyes of his assailant.

"Vincent," the agent said, his voice cold and harsh. "You're coming with me."

______________________________________________________________________________

"This isn't at all what I expected," Chuck said as the Porsche stopped.

It was an oceanfront cottage. It was actually above ground, not the underground bunker that he imagined. Furthermore, it was painted a pleasant sky blue. Granted, the paint had begun to chip on the wood siding, but Chuck's heart still soared. It even had glass windows, without reinforced steel bars.

"Are you positive we're at the right place?" Chuck asked incredulously. "We didn't take a wrong turn somewhere, did we?"

"This is it Chuck," Sarah confirmed as she tucked her hair behind her ears and removed the key. She got out of the car and looked around. Pristine coastline stretched to the north and south, as far as she could see. To the east, the dirt road that brought them there continued north along the coast.

Chuck and Sarah grabbed their things from the back seat. The setting was serene. The last few beams of sunlight sparkled off the Pacific. There were no cars, sirens, horns…nothing. Only crickets and waves.

"Okay, what is this?" Chuck asked, seriously unnerved as they approached the door to the quaint little cottage. "Is this some sort of super spy training? Are there ninjas on the other side of the door waiting to stab me to death?"

"I certainly hope not," Sarah replied with a wry grin.

"Hey now," Chuck began, "isn't it your job to protect me?"

Sarah laughed. "Just open the door Chuck. The key's under the rug."

"What ru…" he started to say. Below his feet was a giant 'Welcome' mat covered with sand. "Okay, now I'm even more freaked out."

Chuck grabbed the key and unlocked the door, pushing it open hesitantly.

"Hellllooooo," Chuck questioned as he entered. "Anybody here?"

Behind him, Sarah rolled her eyes.

Chuck marveled at the inside. A couch and loveseat sat in the corner to his left, surrounding a gas fireplace. To his right, there was an oak table with four unsophisticated chairs. Behind the table was a small kitchen. A classic white refrigerator stood to the left of the gas stove. A coffee pot and toaster sat on the tiled counter, next to the stainless steel sink, which had a window overlooking the beach.

"Come on Chuck," Sarah beckoned, pulling her luggage past him and into the hallway ahead. She opened the door on the left side, which lead to a standard bathroom with a single shower. She looked at it thoughtfully for a moment and turned to the right door and went in.

Chuck followed.

"Only one bedroom," he surmised as he entered the room.

"Yeah, that's what it looks like," Sarah confirmed, as she tossed her luggage on to the queen sized bed. "Is there a problem?" she asked as he lingered in the doorway.

"No, I mean, I don't know…" Chuck stuttered. "Is there?"

Sarah's face reddened and she turned to her luggage.

"We need to talk Chuck," she finally said. "Tonight."

______________________________________________________________________________

"What exactly are you doing?" Casey asked.

"Making the best of my time in this hole," Stephen replied nonchalantly. He continued fiddling with his laptop.

"You should be glad to be here you know," Casey replied. "This base was constructed for one of the most important covert operations in history."

"My son," he replied, never looking up.

"You're worried about him aren't you?"

Stephen looked up and met Casey's eyes.

"I'm always worried about him. It's part of being a father."

"It's more than that," Casey persisted. "And you know it."

Stephen paused, wrestling with himself for words. "It's Sarah," he admitted.

Casey just continued looking at him, waiting.

"Chuck has completely fallen for her," Stephen continued. "I saw it in his eyes at the reception."

Casey's face screwed up in disgust. "You have no idea," he muttered.

"It's just that," Stephen said. "I do. And I don't want to see my son broken like I was."

"No," Casey confirmed. "You don't have an idea. Walker's got it worse than Chuck. I've had to deal with their little charade for over two years now."

Stephen's face remained unconvinced.

"Look," Casey said, growing tired of the emotional talk. "Sarah went AWOL to keep Chuck from going to Langley, and to go save you. She risked death and imprisonment for your son."

"Then how is she…"

"Still employed? We lied. It was a gamble, but it paid off."

The engineer sighed, seeming slightly more at ease. He looked back to his laptop.

"Now, are you going to tell me what you're working on?" Casey asked again.

______________________________________________________________________________

"I hunted Orion for three years," Vincent began. "We got close to capturing him…a few times. But each time, he was always one step ahead of us."

"Who is Charles Carmichael?"

Vincent took a deep breath, and looked at the agent. The man hardly seemed human. He was devoid of any color or emotion. His voice didn't rise or lower. He simply existed, and that alone unnerved the seasoned Fulcrum agent.

"Not a whole lot is known about him," Vincent admitted. "We're fairly certain he's Orion's son. Orion stopped running for him. He even arranged a meeting with him, which we once…"

"Enough," the agent said. "We're going to Burbank."

______________________________________________________________________________

Chuck and Sarah spent that evening unpacking their things and getting oriented. They explored the cottage further, and discovered a basement with a washing machine and dryer. Various pieces of exercise equipment were also down there, including a punching bag, which Sarah admitted to being happy about.

It was fast approaching nine when Chuck realized they hadn't eaten.

"Are you hungry?" Chuck asked her.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry," Sarah replied as she stood up from the couch.

Chuck shot her an intoxicating smile.

"What?" she asked, smiling. Chuck wandered to the kitchen, looking pleased with himself.

"I've been meaning to cook for you for a long time," Chuck beamed.

"I didn't know you could cook," Sarah mused. She watched as Chuck dug through the cupboards looking for something.

"Well, I'm not a pro," Chuck conceded. "Actually, I'm terrible at it. But I'm going to try."

Sarah blushed and laughed. She felt perfectly embarrassed. It was a strange feeling for her. She felt so close to exploding with happiness, but at the same time, her eyes fought to remain dry. She was relieved Chuck's head was buried in the cupboard.

Chuck emerged with a box of spaghetti moments later. "Closest thing to Hamburger Helper in there," he said regretfully.

"Spaghetti sounds good," Sarah assured him. "Would you like me to start on the sauce?"

"Nope, not this time Walker," Chuck insisted. "Tonight your assignment is to take a seat and let me do the work. For once."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just watch you?

Chuck began pulling out the long sticks of pasta. "If you'd like to watch me humiliate myself, sure. Or you can just relax on the couch. Think about it Sarah. When was the last time you got to just relax?"

She thought about it for a moment. "The motel," she answered simply.

That got Chuck's attention. He looked back to where she was, but she had already moved. She walked back to the couch and lay down.

The truth. It came so easily. She wasn't sure she could've looked him in the eye and said it. At least, not without melting in front of him.

That made her even more anxious.

She had to let him know how she felt. She now understood herself. She knew her priorities. In all honesty, it wasn't national security anymore. It wasn't even her safety- physically, mentally, or emotionally. She was bringing those barriers down tonight. Tonight, she would wholly be herself.

She unconsciously began toying with the small, silvery bracelet around her wrist. It was such a small token. But it meant so much to her. It was proof that there was somebody out there that cared about her personally- beyond the physical appeal and spy skills.

She heard a sharp crack and things hitting the ground.

"Damn it," Chuck cursed from the other room. Sarah chuckled.

She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to doze.

______________________________________________________________________________

Stephen searched Casey's face. How much could he trust this man? Was he simply a human extension of the government?

Chuck trusted him. He decided that was enough.

"I'm working on an embedded image," he revealed.

Casey's eyes narrowed. "You're creating an Intersect image," he said flatly.

"Sort of," Stephen admitted. "It's not like any other image though. It's a broken half, and only a human Intersect will be able to recognize it. Kind of like a puzzle."

"And the other half is…"

"Already in the Intersect," he replied. Casey's nearly constant scowl deepened.

"You do realize it's my responsibility to report cases like these to my superiors," Casey stated.

"I believe this is one of the few times you will neglect that responsibility."

"And what makes you think that?" Casey questioned.

"Because," Stephen began. "It protects the future of the Intersect."

______________________________________________________________________________

Chuck waved the plate of spaghetti tantalizingly below Sarah's nose. She shifted slightly on the couch, but didn't awake.

He smiled. She really was relaxed.

"Saaaaaaaarah," Chuck called, still holding out the spaghetti.

Sarah's eyes fluttered briefly and then opened. She looked mildly confused at first, and then understanding seemed to slowly settle upon her face.

"You know," Chuck said, "for a government agent, you sleep very deeply."

"Not often," she assured him, taking the plate of spaghetti from him. She brought her legs up to make room on the couch for him.

Chuck took the offered seat. "So," Chuck began, "I followed the instructions on the box precisely. So I claim no responsibility whatsoever for faulty or dissatisfying pasta."

Sarah smiled as she began twirling the spaghetti around her fork. She slipped the fork into her mouth without a second thought.

She gave him a thumbs up as she chewed. "It's good," she encouraged the anxious cook.

Chuck sighed in relief as he tried it. "I'm glad it turned out okay," he breathed.

"Me too," Sarah grinned. "But I'm cooking tomorrow night."

"Agreed. So what did you want to talk about?" Chuck asked.

Sarah's chest tightened and she bit her lip. She set her plate down and took a deep breath.

"I once told you I wasn't good at relationships," Sarah said hesitantly as she sat up. "And I'm still not. But I'm now aware of one thing."

Chuck stared at her. Was she actually saying what he thought she was?

"I've risked my life countless times," she continued. "But…you're one risk I won't take. I won't risk losing you. I'm done lying and pretending."

"Sarah…"

"No, let me finish," she insisted, her voice cracking. "Chuck, I care about you. You mean more to me than this job or any assignment ever could."

Sarah broke. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she struggled to continue. She clasped her bracelet tightly in her hand.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I am so sorry for everything I put you through."

Sarah buried her face in her hands and cried. Chuck moved up beside her and wrapped her in a hug. She cried harder as he simply held her for several minutes.

"Sarah," he whispered to her. "When I uploaded the Intersect, all I could think about was you. You believed in me. You gave me the strength to do what I had to do…"

He paused as he looked up. Sarah continued to weep.

"And when I flashed," Chuck continued, his face serious, "it wasn't on a face or voice. It was fear. Not for myself. But for you."

Sarah looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"That agent threatened to destroy the most important thing in my life. And the Intersect answered that threat. And ended it."

He looked down into Sarah's eyes and smiled slightly. "Though, I'm convinced I could've taken those agents out without the Intersect too."

Sarah smiled and buried her head into his shoulder. "I sent Beckman my letter of resignation," she murmured. "This is my last assignment."

Chuck didn't even try to hide the shock on his face.

"I quit."


	5. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: I apologize for the late release. I feel really bad about it. Guilty even. I don't want to drive away my readers with long waits. I'm a very slow writer it seems. I originally thought this chapter would be a lil longer, but it turned out to be fairly standard for me. You should be able to pick up a few clues as to what to expect from Chapter 5 though. _

_Thank you readers and reviewers! I appreciate you all!_

_Also, I'm looking for one more person who might be interested in "beta reading" my future work with this story. BillAtWork has been doing a fantastic job, but I'm seeking one more set of opinions/suggestions. Shoot me a private message if you'd be willing._

______________________________________________________________________________

The man was mad.

Vincent could think of no other word to describe him. His green eyes seemed to contain a powerful, destructive storm. This storm was not wild, nor untamed. No, everything about this man screamed control. His face, his eyes, his speech, even the way he moved…this man controlled himself and his environment entirely.

"You're going in there," the agent said smoothly as he screwed the silencer onto his pistol.

Vincent looked at the Buy More ahead of them. He was tired of getting hit by cars, shot at, bombings, ingesting blowfish poison, and the various other risks and consequences of working for Fulcrum and The Ring. He was unsure of what this agent hoped to achieve by revealing their presence.

But he was certain of one thing. Refusing to go into the Buy More would result in his death. He shot the agent a look of contempt before opening the car door.

If the agent noticed Vincent's scowl, he didn't acknowledge it.

______________________________________________________________________________

_He knows I care about him_, Sarah thought as she awoke that morning. She didn't move at all. She just lay on the bed, basking in the revelation.

She hoped it was the right decision. Inside, deep in her heart, she felt it was. Chuck deserved to hear her say it. And in some odd way, she felt that it helped her to hear it as well.

But that didn't silence her doubts.

Another voice constantly reminded her that she had compromised herself. She had made her vulnerability clear and open. Chuck was a possible threat to her well being.

She decided she didn't care.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. They felt slightly crusty and dry, no doubt a result of her innumerable tears. A thin smile appeared on her face.

The simple fact that she was capable of such emotion inspired her. Perhaps the CIA hadn't completely wiped away her identity. Perhaps she wouldn't live and die alone after saving the lives of millions of people. And maybe, just maybe, she could have a family.

The thought tickled her heart as she left the room and opened a closet in the hallway. She selected a green towel from the various neatly folded stacks and strode into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her.

She began toying with the knobs of the shower, adjusting the water. After a few moments, she stripped her clothes and stepped in.

She loved showering. She felt it was kind of a silly thing to treasure, but she did nonetheless. It wasn't just the hot water or bubbles, or washing away the blood, dirt, and grime associated with her job.

It was a place for her to think and reflect. It was a quiet place where the world waited four feet away, beyond the door.

Telling Chuck that she cared for him was a huge relief, but also a huge worry. What did he expect from her? What did she expect from him?

She had no idea. And not knowing bothered Sarah Walker.

She squirted some shampoo into her hand and ran it through her golden hair. Her fingers massaged it in, covering her hands and hair in thick, white bubbles.

Would he expect her to call him something different, like honey or sweetie? They called each other sweetie during their cover. But…

She actually laughed to herself in the shower. One would think she was a giggly teenager going on a first date. Not a twenty-nine year old CIA agent.

She stepped out a few minutes later and wrapped herself in the fuzzy, green towel. She wandered back to the bedroom to grab a pair of clothes from her dresser. Chuck was still asleep, lying on the bed like a dead thing.

She smiled. She still had time.

______________________________________________________________________________

"No!" Lester exclaimed as he hunched over the Nerd Herd desk. "It doesn't go in like that Jeffrey!"

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Jeff reasoned. "I'm a Mac guy."

"So am I!" Lester fired back, picking up a screwdriver to assist Jeff with the broken computer. "But I at least watched how Chuck did it."

"Hm," Jeff replied, looking dazed at the ceiling. "I wonder what Chuck's doing right now."

"Prolly Sarah," Lester joked. Jeff continued staring at the ceiling, but an open, toothy smile did find its way to his blank face. There wasn't anything there, but it still seemed to fascinate the employee, for reasons only known to him.

The service bell on the desk rang.

Lester looked up from the computer, the screwdriver held tightly between his lips. Jeff remained lost in his own mind.

The man before him wore an expensive grey suit and a bored expression upon his face. Lester wasn't exactly sure what to make of the guy.

"Hello," the man said slowly, his mouth barely moving.

Lester spat out the screwdriver and flashed the man an artificial smile. "Welcome to the Buy More," he greeted. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for somebody that works here," he stated. "Is Chuck Bartowski here today?"

"No, unfortunately not," Lester replied, sadly looking back to the broken computer. "He quit a few days ago."

"Do you know where I might be able to find him?"

"No, not really," Lester answered honestly. "He lives with his sister though. She'd know."

"Do you have their address? I need to speak with him."

"Um, yeah, sure," Lester stuttered. He grabbed a customer service card and scribbled it down and handed it to him.

"Thank you for your time," he said, as he turned and walked out.

Lester shuddered, "That guy scares me more than Casey."

______________________________________________________________________________

"Damn it," Casey cursed as he reviewed the surveillance. He zoomed in on the man's face.

"I know that man," Stephen exclaimed. "He spent years chasing after me."

"Yeah, well, looks like he's after Chuck now," Casey growled as he jammed a full clip of ammo into his pistol.

"You're going to Ellie's apartment?" Stephen asked. Casey strapped a bulletproof vest on.

"I don't have a choice," he huffed. "You're not going anywhere and Chuck and Sarah aren't available. That leaves me." Casey tossed Stephen a pistol. "I hope you know how to use it."

Stephen gave a tentative nod as Casey dashed up the stairs and left.

More than one pair of eyes watched the NSA agent crash through the doors of the Orange Orange and speed away in a Crown Victoria.

______________________________________________________________________________

Bacon.

The scent was absolutely overpowering. Chuck and his nose had no choice but to follow the intoxicating scent. He flopped out of bed, and dizzily found his way out of the room.

He stumbled through the hallway and at last came to the source of the wonderful smell.

The sight was no less wonderful. Sarah stood in the kitchen dressed in a light blue top and jean shorts. She was smiling as she carefully flipped the sizzling bacon with a spatula. Her lustrous hair flipped as she turned to see him.

"I…love you…so much," Chuck said groggily as he fell to the floor, only partially conscious.

Sarah's face turned a deep crimson as she determined what the slurred words were. She turned the stove off, and approached him.

She nudged him gently with her foot.

"Good morning," he said, his voice muffled by his lips buried in the carpet.

"Go get ready," she instructed. "I'll have breakfast done when you're out."

Chuck groaned.

Sarah began walking back to the kitchen. "And wear something comfortable," she added. "Your training starts after breakfast."

Chuck slowly got up, first sliding to his knees, and then finally getting to his feet.

Sarah watched him trudge away, amused.

She turned back to her cooking and started to pour small pools of batter on to a pan. She never really imagined herself doing anything like this before, nor having the necessary skill set. There were some advantages of having a cover job.

But now she had to think about her real job. And how to teach Chuck.

There were so many different things that went into being a good agent. It wasn't just fighting and shooting. A good agent had to be a good actor. They had to be efficient at lying, reading people, convincing, flirting, and sometimes, even be good lovers.

The last thought made her miss her tossed pancake. It hit the side of the pan and fell to the floor with a heavy slap.

The basics were fine, at least for today, she decided. Sarah grabbed a napkin and picked up the half-cooked pancake. She tossed it in the trash.

"She shoots, she scores!" Chuck cheered as he emerged from the hallway. His typically curly hair was still soaked with water, giving him a more polished look. Sarah would have been lying if she said she didn't find his new look attractive.

She smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Good morning…sweetie," Sarah said. She immediately regretted her word choice. She felt an overwhelming need to escape his sight. She turned back and looked down to her pan as she felt heat rushing to her face. She closed her eyes.

Chuck's face exploded with a huge smile.

"Did you really just say that?" Chuck asked as he walked toward her. Once again, Sarah Walker had surprised him.

"Hm?" she answered meekly, still looking down as her cheeks began to burn. She didn't need her spy skills to know that he was approaching behind her.

Chuck laughed, "Oh my god, you're embarrassed." He gently wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. "You don't need to be…sweetie." He was sure to emphasize the 'sweetie.'

"I am not," she argued, though there was little enthusiasm in her voice.

"Your cheek says otherwise," he teased.

Sarah shooed Chuck away. "Go sit down," she said, her eyes sparkled as she suppressed a laugh.

She turned the stove off and brought two plates of food to the table.

"Here," she said, sliding a plate to him. "We don't have too long for breakfast though. We have a lot to cover today."

"Ah yes," Chuck remembered, picking up a piece of bacon. "The beginning of your last assignment. How does that feel?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I don't really know what to expect."

"Well, have you thought about anything else you might want to do?" Chuck began munching on the bacon.

"No, not yet. I have a lot of other things to think about."

"Like…?"

Sarah hesitated a moment as she speared a pancake, "Well, I still have to teach you how to be an agent and how to defend yourself."

"Alright, well then, what's the plan for today Ms. Walker? Or should I call you sweetie?" Chuck said laughingly.

Sarah grinned, meeting his eyes. "I was planning on hand to hand combat first."

______________________________________________________________________________

"Good job Vincent," the agent said into the phone. "John Casey is on his way now."

"May I go now?" Vincent asked.

"No," he answered flatly. "You need to be there when Casey arrives or he'll be suspicious."

"What?" Vincent asked incredulously. "I never agreed to this."

"You don't need to. If you don't do it though, I will find you, and I will kill you," the agent replied. He slapped the phone shut. A fellow agent behind him chuckled.

"Is Trebuchet ready?" he asked the two agents behind him, as he tucked his phone away.

"It is, Six," one confirmed. "Everything within a half mile radius of the Buy More and Orange Orange is under surveillance."

His lips cracked into the slightest smile. Six. He hadn't heard his codename for months. It was good to work with other agents of The Ring.

Operation Trebuchet had to go smoothly. The goal was simple. And their resources were infinite.


	6. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes: I'm sorry readers. I probably shouldn't have begun such a lengthy endeavor without ensuring that I had, and would continue to have, the proper amount of time to dedicate to it. I am sincerely sorry._

_This chapter is massive (3 times longer than my usual) and I tried to add a bit of everything._

_As I rewrite this Author's Note section for roughly the fifth time, I now have something very solid to say. This story will end before SEASON 3 begins JANUARY 10__th__. I'm not going to write fictional Chuck events that occur after Season 2, while "real" Chuck events take place. My time has been cut short, but I won't complain. I will strive for a complete and polished product until then._

_Also, Crystal Elements now reviews my work with BillAtWork. So this chapter, and future chapters, will be more polished than ever before._

_(One of the scenes in this chapter is…interesting. Many readers may not catch it. It wasn't intended, but I didn't change it after noticing either. It's probably a good thing if you don't notice it.)_

_--Drop me a review if you have the time or enjoyed what you read here. I read all of my feedback from you guys/gals. It's appreciated.--_

* * *

"Chuck!" Sarah said with slight irritation. She slid her boxing gloves off and wandered back over to him.

"What am I doing wrong?" Chuck asked, sincerely puzzled.

Sarah knelt down and grabbed his leg. "You're standing like a tree again. Your footing is very important." She gave his right leg a slight push, and pulled his left forward.

"There," she said, pleased. "Now try to keep your legs spread like that. It helps you keep your balance when you're shuffling forward or backward."

It was an absolutely perfect morning. The air remained crisp and cool. Sarah loved the way the sand felt, soft and cold between her toes. And to be honest, she enjoyed teaching Chuck, despite his various quirks.

She slid her gloves back on and motioned Chuck forward. "Remember, just jabbing for right now," she reminded.

"Good," Chuck laughed, raising his gloved hands up. "That's all I'm really familiar with."

Chuck launched punches in a very predictable pattern, at least to Sarah. She caught or swatted away all of his punches fairly easily. But she wasn't disappointed- far from it, in fact. Chuck seemed fairly comfortable with both arms, and he had good form. He just lacked creativity in his style and frankly, strength. But he was getting better, even after just an hour. His punches became more rhythmic and smooth, less mechanical.

Sarah batted away another punch from Chuck's right hand. "That's pretty good Chuck," she said with a grin. "Have you boxed before?"

"Not really, no…" Chuck answered awkwardly. Sarah's eyes narrowed inquiringly.

"Well, the Buy More had a Wii set up for customer use last year," Chuck admitted. "I spent my fair share of time beating the snot out of Morgan's Mii."

Sarah couldn't contain her laugh. It was warm and friendly, and to Chuck, nothing in the world sounded so sweet.

"What?" Chuck asked with a chuckle. "Are you really that surprised?"

"Not at all," Sarah said, still smiling brightly. "That's just it. I could've guessed."

"I'm not all that complicated," Chuck said with a wink.

"I know," Sarah said, her voice gentle and her smile sincere. She pulled her gloves off and tossed them in the sand. "Come on," she called, as she took off running along the shore.

Chuck tilted his head curiously as he watched her sprint along the beach. Her high cut shorts displayed her shapely, finely toned legs as she practically floated across the sand. He closed his eyes for a moment, expecting to be pinched and awoken. When he opened them again, though, Sarah was still there; she glanced back, beckoning him to follow.

"I love basic training," Chuck muttered to himself as he took off after her, a cloud of sand following his feet.

* * *

Vincent was at a loss. He didn't have any allies. The majority of Fulcrum was scattered in tiny pieces in Barstow. The Ring, did not care at all about his well being- only their goals. He was an expendable pawn, nothing more.

And now John Casey, a merciless killer in his own right, was on the way to intercept him. And if Vincent ran, or caused the NSA agent to rush back to the Orange Orange, he'd be dead the next morning. He had no doubts about that.

He got out of the car, and glanced at the address on the Buy More customer service card. He knew what to do.

As soon as he stepped in the courtyard, he noticed the surveillance. It was everywhere. To an untrained eye, it was invisible. But Vincent was far from being untrained.

This was the door. He knocked, gingerly, and waited.

The door flew open, and a beautiful, smiling brunette greeted him. "Hello," Ellie said, looking curiously at him.

"Hi," Vincent answered confidently. "Is Chuck home?"

Suspicion replaced curiosity on Ellie's face. "No, he moved out yesterday," she said flatly. "Who are you?"

"My name's Vincent. I'm a friend of Chuck's. He said he'd fix my laptop for me and I could pick it up here."

"Oh," Ellie replied, inviting Vincent inside. "Well, I'm Chuck's sister Ellie. Nice to meet you!"

Vincent forced a smile onto his typically serious face. "Nice to meet you Ellie."

He was in.

* * *

"So what is this?" Chuck asked when he caught up to Sarah. He continued running alongside her, breathing quickly.

"What is what?" Sarah asked lightly.

"This…" Chuck breathed and continued, "horrid Baywatch reenactment."

Sarah giggled, both at Chuck's loss of breath and description. "New agents are tested rigorously for physical ability," she explained. "Running is a good source of cardiovascular exercise."

"This is training too?" Chuck gasped.

"Aside from lunch, we'll be training until dusk," Sarah said matter-of-factly.

"You've gotta be kidding me. Nobody's watching us."

Sarah slowed to a stop. Chuck bowed over, and grasped his knees. He coughed, thoroughly winded.

"Nobody is watching us, right?" Chuck repeated.

Sarah swiped her hair aside and pulled it behind her ear. "No, there's no surveillance. But there's something you have to understand, Chuck."

Chuck stood back up, though his legs were rubbery.

"I need you to do your absolute best here," Sarah continued. "Learn everything you can. I need you to push yourself both physically and mentally."

Chuck smiled helplessly. Her concerned blue eyes continued to bore into him, evaluating him.

"Chuck," she said, slightly quieter and more gentle. "Training you is…difficult for me." She paused briefly and looked out over the ocean, then back into Chuck's innocent eyes. "I need you to survive this. I need to be able to feel that you're safe, even when I'm not at your side. But I need _you_ to come out of being an agent alright too."

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked.

"When we remove the Intersect from your head again, I need you to be Chuck Bartowski, not Charles Carmichael."

Chuck's eyes narrowed as he studied Sarah. "You're scared I'll change," he stated finally.

She nodded hesitantly. "I want Chuck Bartowski," she admitted.

Chuck raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Oh, do you?" Chuck teased. "Please explain."

Sarah laughed and smiled at him. "I may have some things to say," she taunted slyly. "But, you'll have to beat me back to the cottage to hear them."

Chuck's infectious grin spread from ear to ear. "Clever! You're on."

* * *

"You look familiar," Ellie mused, as she seated Vincent on the couch.

"Do I?" Vincent laughed. "Perhaps I just have a familiar face."

"You're right honey, I think I've seen him before," Devon said as he returned from Chuck's room. "And no laptops in there, buddy. He must've taken it with him."

Vincent squirmed on the couch. He could feel his pistol in his jacket, pressing gently against his chest. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

"I know!" Ellie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "You look like The Mummy!"

"Wha..?" Vincent started.

Devon laughed, "That's it hon! The evil dude that wants to take over the world!"

Ellie bombarded him. "You're not him, are you? The actor that played Imhotep?"

"No…" Vincent said confusedly, but strangely more at ease. "I'm a…private investigator."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Oh my god, my brother didn't hire you to spy on Sarah, did he?" She began pacing the room, worrying and mumbling. "I know he was worried about her ex a few months back, but…"

Vincent's ease was short lived. "No, no, I haven't been spying on Chuck's girlfriend," he assured her. "I just needed my laptop fixed."

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Ellie apologized. "I just really want things to go well for them and- well, I'm just nervous."

A few thunderous rumps sounded on the door.

"I'll grab it," Devon said.

Vincent's stomach tightened into a knot.

"Hey, John! What's up, bro?" Devon welcomed as he opened the door. He wasn't nearly as thrilled to see Casey as he seemed, but his brother-in-law had given him a mission. He wouldn't let him down.

"Hey, Devon," Casey said hastily. "I just wanted to stop by and say hi."

Something wasn't right, and Casey had known it right away. The agent's car wasn't hidden; it was parked outside, publicly viewable. There was no sign of the agent outside the building. When Casey had knocked, he'd feared the worst- silence.

But, nothing seemed to be out of place.

"Chuck's friend Vincent stopped by too," Devon stated, stepping aside to allow Casey in. "Chuck didn't happen to mention a laptop to you, did he?"

"Vincent?" Casey was instantly alert.

And then he saw him. The agent graciously accepted a glass of lemonade from Ellie as he sat on the couch, talking to her.

"Oh, you guys haven't met either?" Devon asked, surprised. He shut the door behind him and led Casey into the room.

Vincent turned from Ellie to meet Casey's cold, relentless stare. His eyes searched and probed him, scouring him for threats.

"John," Devon announced, "this is Vincent. Vincent, this is John."

Vincent stood up and offered him his hand. "Nice to meet you, John," Vincent said.

Casey's eyes narrowed as he grasped his hand. He held it in a vice-like grip for several seconds. "Nice to meet you too," Casey replied with a devious grin.

* * *

Chuck's heart was pounding. It was a deafening, echoing array of booms and thuds that left him feeling nauseous. His ears were ringing irritatingly and his stomach threatened to empty its contents.

None of those things kept his legs from continuing their industrious march, though- not with Sarah on his heels.

Behind him, Sarah breathed heavily. She, too, was feeling the effects of the five miles they had run. The cottage was now clearly visible- only three hundred yards or so away. She was genuinely impressed by Chuck's ambition.

_I guess I can be a pretty good motivator_, she thought to herself.

Almost right on cue, Chuck bolted ahead. Just by watching him, Sarah could tell he was pouring everything he had into the last stretch. Sand was tossed around wildly behind him.

She was not without her own energy pool though. She'd saved her strength, knowing he would likely finish strong. She picked up her pace until she finally came shoulder to shoulder with him.

One hundred and fifty yards left.

"Is…that all you've got…sweetie?" she asked between breaths, glancing at him on her left.

"Far from it, sweetie," Chuck replied hoarsely, as he pushed himself impossibly harder. Sarah could hardly believe it. He could actually keep her pace for five miles, and maybe actually beat her.

One hundred yards.

Sweat poured down Chuck's forehead, stinging his eyes. His skin felt unnaturally hot, as if his blood were literally boiling in his veins. He was still confident, though. He'd win Sarah's bet and impress her. He could do it. He even began wondering what she might say.

Fifty yards.

Sarah was suddenly very anxious. Though she had loads of things that she _could_ tell him, she didn't really _want_ to. The thought made her stomach turn uneasily. She had no idea what to say.

Suddenly, all of her anxiety and nervousness disappeared. She watched in horror as Chuck's legs buckled beneath him, sending him sprawling forward into the sand.

* * *

If Casey had been confused before, he was now completely bewildered. He was drinking lemonade with a rogue agent with Chuck's family. He just didn't get it.

Casey desperately wanted to put a bullet between Vincent's eyes and be done with it, but there was something about the man that made him stall. Casey realized he was more than likely armed, but he didn't make any suspicious moves. And of course, he couldn't just blow Chuck's cover without solid reasoning.

"So, John," Ellie started, breaking the unusual silence. "Chuck was okay, right? He didn't get cold feet about moving in with Sarah, did he?"

Casey locked his eyes on Vincent, still searching him for answers. "No, he was alright. Maybe even a little excited." Vincent met Casey's eyes and nodded subtly toward the door. He didn't have a weapon to reinforce the request.

Glancing quickly at his watch, Casey spoke up again. "Sorry guys, I forgot about a job interview I have. Thanks for the drink."

Ellie's eyebrows raised in confusion. "Um, alright," she said hesitantly. "Good luck with your interview."

"I should probably get going too," Vincent added. "It was nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you too, bro," Devon said. "We'll let you know if Chuck calls about your laptop."

"Thank you," he said, following Casey out the door.

Ellie looked helplessly at Devon after Casey and Vincent had left. "Honey, am I a bad hostess? Be honest."

"No, hon, Chuck's friends are just…a little unusual," Devon replied comfortingly.

Images of Jeff, Lester, and Morgan flitted through Ellie's mind. She shrugged, not needing any more convincing.

* * *

The moment the door closed, Casey's gun was out.

"Talk," Casey said simply.

Vincent wasn't surprised at all. "You can put the gun away, Casey," Vincent said calmly. "If I wanted to hurt somebody, I would've done it long ago."

"You're Fulcrum," Casey said accusingly, though he had to admit, Vincent had a point. "Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Fulcrum is just a word. The organization is gone. The remaining agents are in hiding or have been hired fully into The Ring."

Casey's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

"You need to listen to me first," Vincent replied urgently, ignoring Casey's question. "I'll explain everything, but you're running out of time."

Casey lowered his gun slightly. "I'm listening."

"The Ring is here in Burbank- and not just a sub-branch like Fulcrum. They've targeted the Orange-"

Vincent's sentence was cut off as Casey's hand found his throat. Casey threw him against the wall and lifted him several inches off the ground.

"When?" Casey demanded.

"They're moving now," Vincent gasped, struggling for breath.

Casey pushed harder, bashing Vincent's head against the wall. "Why?"

"Your government database…" he replied hoarsely. "They're searching for Orion."

"Damn it!" Casey swore loudly. He released Vincent and began furiously punching numbers into his phone.

"Give me your gun," he said coldly past the phone. His other hand held his pistol aloft.

Vincent slowly withdrew his pistol from his coat and handed it to Casey.

"You're driving," Casey instructed as the phone rang in his ear. Vincent started for the Vic.

"Nonono, you're not touching my car. We're taking yours. Buy More, quick."

* * *

"Finished," Stephen said aloud to himself. With the Intersect image complete, he could finally get away from the world of international espionage. He could watch over Ellie, Devon, and Chuck. He could watch his future grandchildren grow up. He could rejoin his family.

Stephen shut his laptop with a sigh. He just hoped his family was still okay.

Stephen's phone began buzzing urgently. He pulled it from his pocket, briefly recognizing Casey's number before answering.

"Hello?" he answered. "Is everybody alright?"

"Get the hell out of there!" Casey demanded through the phone. "They're right outside. They're after our computer in order to find you!"

Stephen glanced at the various security monitors on the wall. "I don't see…"

"Just shut up and do it!"

Stephen snapped his phone shut and rushed to the table to grab the pistol Casey given to him. He tucked it in his pocket, and returned to his laptop. He had to get the Intersect image away. Someone he trusted had to keep it safe.

_Who better than Bryce Larkin?_ He pounded in Bryce's email and hit 'send.' Then, rushing to the government computer, he quickly located a USB port before jamming a flash drive into the slot.

The entire wall of monitors blinked off and on before going entirely dark.

A series of short, powerful blasts sounded at the top of the stairs. Stephen raced through the base, carefully following the path that Casey had instructed him to use in an emergency.

The soft, padded footsteps that had become all too familiar to Stephen were now audible. They were close.

Stephen came to the wall Casey had shown him. He pulled the latch at the bottom and pushed hard against the wall.

* * *

Six cautiously lead his team into the base. The place looked abandoned. There wasn't a sound in the entire compound. Granted, his team easily bypassed the alarms and defense systems that protected the base, but Six still expected at least some resemblance of resistance.

"Search it," he instructed as he gazed upon the wall of monitors. His team scattered, scouring the base with raised guns.

Six approached the keyboard for the massive government computer and pressed enter. Nothing happened; the monitors remained black.

_Perhaps they do have some fight left_, Six mused, removing the flash drive that was wedged into the computer.

Then he saw the laptop. It wasn't a government issued laptop; the technology was far beyond the ability and resources of the United States government.

"Orion was here," Six said nonchalantly into his headpiece. "Search the premises thoroughly for Stephen Bartowski."

A voice answered through Six's earpiece. "Alternate exit located in the northwest wing; it connects to the Buy More."

"Shut it down," Six ordered. "Orange Orange team, relocate and assist in isolating the Buy More. Nobody in or out. Trebuchet, plant the charges. The base is useless."

* * *

Sarah was at Chuck's side in an instant. Chuck laid in the sand the way he fell- with his face buried in the sand, his legs spread awkwardly, and his arms stretched forward in a 'Superman' pose.

"Chuck, are you okay?" Sarah asked worriedly. She pushed him too hard; it was obvious to her. She slid her hand under him and gently rolled him over.

Chuck's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Sand clung to his lips and cheeks.

Sarah gingerly wiped the sand away from his face.

"Mmmmmmm…" Chuck groaned, slowly sitting up.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked again.

"Yeah…" Chuck sighed, blinking a couple times. "Only my ego is hurting."

Sarah smiled and tilted her head at him. "You have no reason to be embarrassed," she comforted. "You did a great job."

"No reason to be embarrassed?" Chuck said laughingly. "I only fell on my face in a race against the CIA's top agent, whom I just happen to be head over heels for."

"Well," Sarah began. "_That_ specific CIA agent doesn't care if you fall on your face, as long as you did your best." She paused, reconsidering her word choice. "I didn't mean I don't _care _that you fell…"

Chuck laughed, "It's okay; I understand what you meant." Chuck climbed to his feet and stretched. "I'm definitely going to feel this tomorrow."

"We can do less physical training tomorrow," Sarah said, joining him.

"You mind if we walk the last stretch of the beach?" Chuck asked. "I really don't feel like running again."

"Me either," Sarah laughed.

Chuck smiled and offered her his hand. Sarah took it, tentatively, and walked alongside him. Gulls cried overhead as they quietly crossed the short expanse to the cottage.

"I don't suppose you'll be saying much since I lost, huh?" Chuck surmised as they stopped at the door.

"That's not entirely true," Sarah said. "We both got here at the same time." She grinned, and Chuck could clearly see the wheels of her mind turning.

"Well, what does that mean?"

"How about this," Sarah began, "I get to ask you one question, and you get to ask me one. Sound fair?"

Chuck's eyebrows rose inquiringly.

"Fair?" Sarah persisted.

"Okay, fair enough," Chuck answered at last. Sarah asking _him_ questions…that was a new and unexpected scenario that left him feeling nervous.

* * *

"Floor it," Casey said, his pistol still fixed on Vincent. Vincent complied, and the engine roared with power.

"You can put the gun away Casey," Vincent said calmly, as he focused on driving.

"It makes me feel a little bit better about riding with a rogue agent. I don't think I will."

Vincent was about to reply, but stopped. He wouldn't be able to convince the seasoned NSA agent of his good intentions, and honestly, he respected that. In the same scenario, he'd do the same thing.

"As you wish," he said at last. Casey grunted.

"How much do you know about the operation?" Casey asked.

"Very little. I was not privy to that information. I told them what I knew of Orion, and did as I was told- until I met you."

"Why did you stop?"

"Because I want out."

Casey stared hard at Vincent. He didn't appear to be lying. Was The Ring really so bad that this Fulcrum agent would betray them, just to escape? Casey scarcely knew the difference between the two. To him, they were all bad guys with guns; he just had to shoot them before they shot him.

"I will explain everything I know later, provided we survive," Vincent said, noticing Casey's blank expression.

Vincent pulled into the huge parking lot that held both the Large Mart and Buy More a few silent minutes later.

"Stop the car!" Casey demanded suddenly, his voice firm. The car screamed to a halt, and both Casey and Vincent jolted forward.

"They're on the buildings," Casey cursed. Casey and Vincent remained a fair distance away yet, but Casey noticed the silhouettes immediately. The forms of people could barely be made out, but they were there- on the roofs of the Buy More, Orange Orange, and Large Mart.

"Good catch," Vincent commented. "They likely have sniper rifles up there. We could've been dead before seeing them."

Casey issued a low growl, thinking. "Keep going toward the back of the Buy More. We're in your car, so they shouldn't shoot."

Vincent pushed the gas gently, slowly easing the car toward the electronics store. The figures became increasingly clear as they approached. Casey watched them intently; none seemed to pay them any heed.

"It's a good sign that they're still up there," Vincent remarked. "If they had Orion, there wouldn't be any sign of them." Casey had silently come to the same conclusion.

He just hoped he found him before they did.

* * *

Stephen was relieved to find the Buy More break room empty as he exited Castle. Explaining how and why there was a door in the wall was not something he had time for.

He carefully opened the break room door and walked onto the sales floor. The Buy More was incredibly busy, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he could slip through the crowds and remain unseen. On the other, anybody could be an enemy agent looking for him.

Blessing or curse, it ultimately didn't matter. Stephen pulled his coat tight around him and joined the masses. Casey's directions were quite detailed, and Stephen didn't have a problem finding the "Hole" and the hallway just left of it.

"Excuse me sir," a voice called as Stephen started for the door at the end. Stephen turned around slowly, gripping the pistol tightly with sweaty hands.

The man was less menacing than a Chihuahua. He was a tall, balding man in a pale yellow shirt. A grey vest emblazoned with Store Manager and Emmett Milbarge hugged his lean frame.

"That area is for Buy More employees only," he said smoothly. "If you need help finding something, I can have one of our talented sales associates assist you."

"I'm sorry," Stephen said through gritted teeth. "I probably should have spoken to you first, but I am an inspector for the Federal Trade Commission and I just wanted to confirm the quality of the services and products that you provide for your customers."

"Oh! The FTC!" Emmett exclaimed. "Here, let me give you a tour. I think you'll find that we provide nothing but the best here at the Buy More."

"No," Stephen said firmly, pausing Emmett. "My findings and reports must be done independently. I will contact you afterward if there is an issue."

"As you wish…" Emmett lamented, storming off with his headset.

Stephen quickly raced through the door and locked it. "No wonder Chuck wanted out of here," he breathed.

He scanned the room, seeing the aforementioned storage cage, and more importantly, the receiving door. He did his part. He was at the extraction point.

Casey, however, was not.

* * *

"I really don't feel like cooking, Chuck," Sarah said. "Would you mind if we just finished up the leftover spaghetti you made?"

"Sounds great," Chuck answered absent-mindedly as he inspected the trail of sand he left behind him as he wandered into the cottage. Sarah began pulling out bowls and preparing their lunch.

"Would you do me a favor as I get this ready?" Sarah asked as she began dishing out spaghetti.

"Sure, what's up?" Chuck walked to the kitchen, watching Sarah at work.

She looked up. "There's a blue duffle bag under the bed that has some of my things in it, but in the bottom there's a few different guns. Can you grab them and bring them out?"

Sarah picked up a piece of spaghetti that had fallen astray and slipped it into her mouth with a smile.

"Absolutely," Chuck said, not thinking twice. He left right away, shaking his head the entire time. He was a very, very lucky guy.

Chuck slipped into the bedroom, and was once again amazed at how much Sarah brought with her. Various small trinkets from her apartment littered the room. She even brought her goldfish with her, which swam lazily in its bowl on her dresser.

Chuck crouched under the unmade bed, and peeked under. There were several duffles under it, but he grabbed the blue one and pulled it out a moment later.

He carefully unzipped the bag, revealing its contents. Chuck didn't have a clue what half of the things were. There was a first aid kit, duct tape, ammunition, and various other things that Chuck didn't have a name for. He dug beneath the stuff, looking for the guns Sarah asked for.

Chuck found something else first though. It was a small, black notebook tucked in back of the bag. Hoping for an instruction manual, Chuck lifted it and shuffled through it. It became instantly clear that it wasn't a manual.

It was Sarah's diary.

* * *

Six had the upper hand and he knew it. Trebuchet wasn't going as planned; it was going better than planned. It was a shame the computer was fried before he got there, but it really didn't matter. He'd found Orion's location nonetheless.

"We need Orion alive," Six reminded his team through his headset. "Use tranqs."

Six lowered his shoulder and crashed through the hatched door, entering the Buy More.

"I didn't do it!" a startled voice yelled as Six emerged from the wall, pistol held high.

"Shut up," Six ordered. The man cowered in the corner, his arms in the air. Six instinctually scanned him for weapons and caught sight of his name tag.

"I didn't do anything," Jeff insisted.

"Shut up," Six repeated. "Have you seen this man?" He held up a small photograph.

"He kinda looks like Chuck…" Jeff mumbled, glancing at the photo.

"Have you seen him?"

"Chuck?" Jeff asked bewildered.

Six shook his head. The man was clearly a waste of time. Six raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.

Jeff looked confusedly at the gun, then at the dart lodged in his chest. "Buuut, I didn't do anythin…" His voice trailed off as he slid down the wall into unconsciousness.

"Surveillance, any sign of Orion?" Six asked.

"Negative," a voice replied promptly. "Wait," the voice said a moment later. "There is a black Chevy approaching from the south. It appears to be going around to the back of the store."

Six was dialing Vincent before he finished.

* * *

Chuck felt like he was holding the Holy Grail. No, not even the Holy Grail; what he held was even better. Sarah's thoughts, in ink, were much more valuable to him.

Chuck casually flipped through it, confirming what he had already assumed. Sarah's handwriting was unmistakable. She dated each page of her diary in the top right corner, beginning September 6th, three years ago.

Chuck closed the notebook and stared blankly at the wall.

Everything she had said and felt was likely in the book. Every knife that had pierced his heart was likely described, in detail, from her perspective. It was exactly what he had wanted for almost two years- the truth.

He looked back at her diary and smiled. A year ago, he would have dove into the pages with hardly a second thought. But, now…

"What do you think you're doing?"

Chuck literally jumped out of his skin at Sarah's voice. It was strangely calm, but firm. Chuck turned around slowly, meeting her gaze as she stood in the doorway.

"I didn't…" Chuck began anxiously. "I was just looking…"

"For the guns," Sarah finished. "But, you found my diary instead."

Chuck nodded quickly. "I didn't read it."

Sarah walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed near Chuck.

"That's how I got by," Sarah explained quietly. "I had nobody to go to. I didn't trust anyone. So, I went to my diary."

"You have a very lucky diary."

Sarah shot Chuck a smile, and motioned for the book.

"It has everything you've probably ever wanted to know regarding…" Sarah paused, as the word slowly came to her, "Us."

"I figured," Chuck admitted.

"But you still didn't read it."

Chuck shook his head.

"I've given you a thousand reasons to want to read this book," Sarah said, holding her diary aloft. "Yet, you still say you didn't. Why should I believe you?"

"Is that your reward question?" Chuck asked, his tone completely serious.

"Absolutely not," Sarah said, slightly harsher than she intended. "You owe me this answer."

"Yeah, I guess you're right…" Chuck admitted, wringing his hands nervously. "I didn't read it because I value how you feel about me now much more than how you felt about me a year or two ago."

Sarah closed her eyes, thinking to herself. He had absolutely said the correct answer, and it was wonderful to hear.

"Okay, I believe you," she said a few seconds later. She stood up, bringing her diary with her. "Come on, our lunch is getting cold."

"Wait, I want to ask my question," Chuck said from behind her.

Sarah stopped, but didn't turn around.

"You just said you believe me," Chuck stated. "But, do you _trust_ me?"

Sarah understood all the meaning behind Chuck's question. Oddly enough, though, it wasn't a difficult one.

"Yes," she answered, and continued out of the room, hiding her smile.

* * *

"Stop here," Casey instructed as he removed the safety from his pistol. He looked at Vincent hesitantly before speaking again. "I don't completely understand why you're doing this, but if you continue to…"

A long, wavering ring filled the car. Vincent closed his eyes and reached into his jacket. He didn't need to look at the number to know who it was.

"Who is it?" Casey asked urgently.

"I don't know his name…" Vincent answered. "But it's the man that's leading the operation."

"Answer it."

Vincent snapped open his phone. The ringing was immediately replaced by a voice.

"Why are you outside the Buy More?" Six asked, too calmly for Vincent's liking.

"I'm not," Vincent answered, praying that his years of lying could fool the heartless agent on the phone. "I apprehended Colonel Casey and am awaiting further instructions."

"I have two sentries on the Buy More with 50 caliber sniper rifles trained on a black Malibu directly below them. Are you telling me that you do not care if I order them to empty a magazine into it?"

Vincent didn't have an answer.

"Get down!" Vincent yelled at Casey, promptly hanging up. Vincent threw the car into reverse and the tires screamed as they raced backward across the concrete. Bullets pounded through the ceiling, tearing through the steel and seats below. One bullet whistled right past Vincent's ear, lodging itself in the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Casey shouted.

"Extracting Orion," Vincent replied as the tires wailed once again, driving the Malibu forward into the steel receiving door ahead of them.

The door crashed and fell over them, sending glass flying everywhere.

"The idea was to extract him quietly!" Casey chastised Vincent.

"I didn't have a choice!"

Casey pushed his door open and stumbled out of the car. Debris clouded the air of the room Casey had come to know all too well. It was only last week that he had unloaded a shipment of TV's from the spot in which he now stood.

"John!" Stephen called, running through the room to him. "They're all over the store. I tapped into the store's security cams…"

"Don't move," Six emerged into the room, his gun fixed on Casey.

Casey's eyes widened in shock as Six approached.

"It's good to see you again, John."

"You were MIA for weeks," Casey protested. "They pronounced you dead."

"No," Six corrected, "I was abandoned…"

Casey shoved Stephen into the open car door in an instant and dove across the floor.

"Drive!" Casey shouted as gunshots rang out around him. The Malibu hummed and jutted back, the steel curtain sliding off the front with a crash.

Colonel Casey knew he was too slow. It was evident by the pool of blood gathering at his side as he lay on the floor. At least one of the bullets had connected. Casey clasped his gun tightly with an outstretched arm. Maybe he could return the favor…

"That was a bad idea, John," Six said, walking to Casey's prone form. He ground his foot into Casey's hand that desperately clung to the pistol. Casey roared in pain as his hand crunched into the shards of the windshield scattered across the floor.

"I did my job…" Casey retorted, breathing heavily. Six crouched down and looked Casey in the eye. He slowly pulled out a small remote.

"Let me tell you where you now stand," Six said matter-of-factly. "I'm holding a detonator that will destroy your annoying base once and for all. I have four teams around the Buy More perimeter that are pursuing Orion as we speak. And you…" His eyes glittered maliciously, voice dropping down to a harsh whisper.

"You, John, are about to endure the worst pain you could possibly imagine."

Casey slowly withdrew a knife from his pocket while holding Six's gaze.

Six smiled, placing the detonator on Casey's forehead.

"You're far too obvious," he asserted, before his foot crashed down upon the remote.


	7. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes: I have three different copies of this chapter. This is my first, and longest of the three. I wasn't really satisfied with this chapter. I'm still not. Some parts I'm pretty happy with…others…not so much. Writing "Chuck" fanfic has been more difficult for me since Season 3 began. Not because I'm unhappy with it- because I'm not. _

_I'll be honest. I only have a vague idea of where I'm going. I have no idea how I'll get there. But I do intend to get there…it just might take a while._

_I really am sorry for my delays in updates. I could probably throw many excuses out there, but the truth is, I'm not an "experienced" writer. I may be able to string some words together in a pleasant way, but I don't have a technique or process of doing so. I'm not sure if that even makes sense…so here's an analogy:_

_I have a blank map and am working on filling it in._

_As always, I'd like to thank all my readers and reviewers. I read your reviews and advice; expect some changes in my future chapters._

* * *

Sleep had never been very hard to find for Sarah. But tonight, it was lost amongst a myriad of thoughts and doubts.

She was exhausted; she had no doubts about that. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her bed. In fact, Sarah couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a more comfortable bed. She loved the fluffy down comforter and her pillow. She'd decided that she'd be taking those with her when she left.

Sarah turned to her side and looked at Chuck. He was breathing in deep, rhythmic waves. He clearly had no problems falling asleep. Sarah felt a pang of jealousy well up, but it was quickly replaced by guilt.

Sarah couldn't quite figure out why, but she felt as if she'd let Chuck down. Chuck was seemingly at peace with his emotions and thoughts. She, however, was far from it. One thought lead to another in a single endless cycle. It was a maze without a finish, and Sarah felt terribly lost.

_And tired, _Sarah thought to herself.

Normally, scenarios like these were often fixed by a quick writing in her diary. Somehow, recording her thoughts gave her a measure of peace. But today, after finding Chuck with it, she'd decided it was time for the diary to go. Its new home was the kitchen waste basket.

It wasn't that she was scared of Chuck reading it someday in the future. It wasn't a risk. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She'd decided that Chuck was a worthy replacement.

But her replacement was sleeping so peacefully…and…

Sarah found herself in yet another mental conflict. Would it be wrong for her to wake Chuck? Part of her told her it'd be selfish, and the other side told her it was part of being…together.

_Together, _her mind echoed._ Even that isn't entirely defined for us. Can I even use "us"?_

Sarah sighed, frustrated, and threw her head into her pillow. Her pillow expelled a giant "poof" of air.

Chuck shifted and stirred.

_Damn it._

And even then, she wasn't sure if she meant it.

* * *

Pain. That's all there was, and all there had been for some time. Agony embraced him like a giant python, coiling itself around his body tightly. It wasn't in a hurry. It slowly squeezed away at his will, teasing and coaxing him into submission.

It'd take some time before it got the best of John Casey.

Casey didn't have a clue where he was, or how much time had passed. He awoke blindfolded, sitting in a chair with his wrists and ankles secured to a steel chair with barbed wire. He grunted, mildly impressed with their blend of practicality and cruelty. They'd removed the bullet from his shoulder to keep him from bleeding to death, but had apparently found it convenient, or humorous, to patch his wound with duct tape.

He'd play this losing game through, he decided. His mind spiraled back to his youth, landing him in the middle of a vicious, drunken game of Monopoly in high school. Today, he'd landed on "Boardwalk" and had paid dearly. Paid, but remained in business. Perhaps he could repay the favor before he went bankrupt. He smirked as another surge of pain coursed through his body.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

"A diner? Seriously, they're still on our tail," Vincent pointed out. He paced back and forth nervously, glancing at the clock on the far wall of the café. The scent of coffee and cigarettes was thick in the air.

"I'm well aware of that," Stephen assured him as he furiously typed at the diner's guest computer. "I thought you, of all people, would know that I know how to evade capture."

Vincent gritted his teeth. "I'm trying to help you."

"Why?" Stephen asked, never looking away from the monitor. "If you hadn't been with Casey, I would've thought I had left the frying pan and landed in hell."

Vincent smirked and looked around him, expecting gunshots at any moment. "Believe this, even if you don't believe anything else I say; you do not want to be a captive of The Ring."

"I don't want to be a captive at all," he corrected.

Vincent sighed and leaned heavily against the wall. "Just hurry," he insisted. "They can't be far behind." Vincent scanned the crowded room full of people leaving and entering. He'd never been a fan of Los Angeles night life. The lights, the noise, the people- it wasn't Vincent's scene. And now, when any single person could be an assassin, he hated it even more.

* * *

Sarah watched in mild fascination as Chuck unconsciously rolled into her side and emitted a long, drawn out wail similar to a cow. A hand came unfolded and lazily swatted around, blindly looking for his eyes. After a few seconds of eye rubbing and heavy yawns, Chuck's eyes blinked open.

Chuck looked around haphazardly, appearing slightly confused until his gaze fell upon a very awake Sarah Walker.

"Helloooo," Chuck greeted sleepily, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Sorry I woke you," Sarah answered lamely. "You should get back to sleep. We have lots to do today."

Chuck waved a hand, dismissing his awakening. "It's fine; I feel pretty good actually." He released a huge yawn, making his ears pop. "Just…need coffee," he added.

Sarah looked away, a small frown formed at her lips.

Chuck had seen that reaction countless times. Even in his semi-conscious state, he knew what his damsel in distress looked like.

"What's wrong?" Chuck asked, joining Sarah sitting up. Sarah turned back to meet his eyes and sighed.

_I guess this will be my first entry in my "diary."_ Sarah thought.

"It's difficult to know where to start," Sarah said timidly. Chuck's eyes widened slightly, and Sarah knew she had to clarify quickly. "It's nothing about you," she continued, "Well, it is, but not in the way you were thinking."

Chuck smiled, "I hope to God you can't always read my mind."

Sarah chuckled, and a faint grin remained behind. "It'd be a nice skill to have."

"Tell me about it," Chuck laughed. Several silent moments slipped by. "So," Chuck said at length, "what's on your mind?"

Sarah began nervously toying with the blanket draped around her waist. _Where to start?_

"I threw away my diary."

Chuck raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Okaaaay… You do know that I wouldn't read it right? That I didn't?"

"I know," Sarah whispered. "But, I was hoping that from now on…" Her voice trailed away and she twisted the blanket into a tight knot. "I was hoping you'd be open to talking to me. When I feel like I need to say something."

Chuck's face became stern, and Sarah felt her skin crawl. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice emotionless.

_Damnit, Sarah, _Sarah's mind chastised. _You should've kept your mouth shut and tranq'd yourself. Problem solved._

"Are you serious?" Chuck repeated.

She felt cold dread creep through her limbs and sink deep into the recesses of her heart. Trepidation and fear suffocated her; her brain floundered about, utterly confused and petrified.

"Yes," Sarah croaked, looking just below Chuck's eyes. "I understand if you…"

Chuck's face erupted into the most positively, wonderful smile she'd ever seen. She wasn't sure if he was amused, proud, or hysterical, but she felt her emotional noose loosen.

"Is that okay?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

"Okay?" Chuck gasped. Sarah's cheeks burned a deep scarlet and she looked down. "Sarah, that's the greatest thing you've ever asked me. I would be thrilled to give you my ear whenever you need it." Chuck gently lifted her chin and found her eyes. "Whenever you need it," he reiterated.

"What if you're asleep?"

"Don't wake me with water," Chuck laughed, prompting a smile from his companion. "Coffee might be okay though."

Sarah looked at the blanket in front of her, lying in a twisted, knotted heap.

"That's some mess you have there," Chuck commented. "I'll go get some coffee started." Chuck got up and stretched, his black t-shirt emblazoned with Great Britain's flag and a motorcycle lifting ever so slightly above his blue boxers.

"I'll sort it out," Sarah said, more to herself than to him.

When Chuck returned later with a tray and two cups of coffee, he found Sarah asleep in neatly folded, yet wrinkled blankets.

* * *

"Got it," Stephen said triumphantly, shutting down the computer. "Let's go." Orion grabbed Vincent's shoulder, motioning him toward the door.

"No," Vincent answered, looking around nervously. "Our stop here was far too long. We're going out the back."

"The car…" Stephen protested.

"Maybe if it stays where it is, it'll slow them down. Not likely though. Either way, we'll have to be slightly unconventional to keep them guessing." Vincent led Orion back, pushing past patrons and waitresses.

They made their way to a short hallway jutted off the service area, with an emergency fire door at the end.

"This will work," Vincent said. He knelt at the door and removed a small screwdriver from his pocket. "Just give me a second to disarm the alarm."

"Allow me," Stephen said, stopping Vincent. Orion reached into his coat and grabbed his cell phone. He pushed a button and the red security light blinked off.

"Of course," Vincent said dryly, pushing the door open to reveal a damp, dirty alleyway. Vincent cautiously led Orion through the network of rundown alleys in a light jog, pausing only to check corners and dumpsters.

"Is it really necessary to check for them in dumpsters?" Stephen questioned.

"Yes," Vincent whispered. "If we don't check, and somebody is in one…" He let the thought linger in the air before continuing. "I'll be dead and you'll wish you were."

"I see you think highly of these people."

Vincent smirked and pressed onward.

* * *

"Colonel John Casey."

Casey grunted, not needing to see the speaker to recognize him. "Corporal…"

A heavy smack interrupted Casey, driving his face into his shoulder.

"That man no longer exists. I am called Six, nothing else."

Six's voice circled Casey, but he couldn't gauge the distance. His former Marine made no audible noise unless speaking.

"I need you to answer some questions," Six said nonchalantly. "It's up to you how much this interrogation will hurt."

"It'll take more time than you have to get answers out of me," Casey sneered. "Beckman will have teams scouring everywhere to find me."

"I've become quite adept at breaking men," Six replied coldly. "I need information, and I'll get it, one way or another." He withdrew a small paring knife and began flipping it expertly between his fingers.

"I'll admit, I didn't think Vincent would turn on me. Perhaps he is more than a simple thug, though I doubt it. Orion got a meaningless and short break, nothing more."

"Ha, he did get away," Casey chortled. "I guess your man did pull through for me."

"It's only a matter of time," Six answered venomously. "We know that Charles Carmichael, an agent on your team, is actually Chuck Bartowski. He's already proven himself to be an effective lure for the evasive Orion.

"Good luck finding 'im."

"That's the beautiful thing," Six retorted with a smile. "We don't need to. He'll find you."


End file.
